A Question of Honor
by thinktink2
Summary: Sometimes you have to defend yourself against unfair slights levied your way. Especially when the lady demands it.


**it's been a long time, years even, since I've written any fanfiction, but I love Captain Swan, and this started and would not leave me alone. I'm a little rusty, so please be gentle with me. This story started with one intent in mind and rapidly diverged from that. Not sure how it got away from me, except, like Emma, it's been a while. I don't own the characters, sadly, but I thought I'd borrow them for a little while. I promise i'll give them back. Eventually. Maybe.**

It wasn't that they were sneaking around, per se. It was just they were awfully good about clandestine meetings where absolutely no one who would recognize them would ever be in the position of seeing them together. Which was saying something in Storybrooke, because EVERYONE knew the savior, and EVERYONE knew Captain Hook, and EVERYONE would be absolutely gobsmacked if they realized said savior and captain were acting on feelings only recently (barely) hinted at and brought to light by their inclusion in Henry's book.

In fact, the Savior and Captain? A couple? A pirate and princess? That was almost too unbelievable even for Storybrooke citizens to grasp, but nevertheless, said pirate and princess were inching their relationship along to that inevitable status.

Or at least one of them was trying to move it along, and the other was usually trying to put on the brakes. And while one would think it would be Hook the former, and Emma the latter, as a matter of fact you could flip a coin and come out with better odds as to who was what at any given time.

Currently, though, it was Emma, after a lengthy freeze out of advances, who was trying to sling-shot their fledgling courtship into the next phase.

"Bloody hell, Swan!"

"What?" Emma paused where she had just managed to seize and (gently, for the record) squeeze the crown jewels.

"What are you doing?"

Emma scoffed. "What does it look like?" She slipped her hand down below their waistline and palmed another handful. Killian shot up and away from Emma with another hiss. Emma's brow furrowed in that adorable way that usually made Killian's heart thud in his chest, but currently it was sputtering like a piston engine about to overheat, and he wasn't finding anything about her expression adorable (sexy as hell, yes).

"What?" Emma asked again, although her tone made it more _What now?_

"What are we doing here, Swan?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, backing away, and adopting a slightly hurt, defensive tone.

"We're in the middle of the bloody woods."

"So? I thought it might be...romantic," she settled, after searching for the appropriate word.

"Aye, the moon is full, the stars are bright, and we're supposed to be looking for a bloody winter wielding witch who has left a frozen trail up and down the Storybrooke town line."

"Well, do you see her anywhere around?" Emma retorted.

"We've only been looking for an hour, Swan, well, one of us, anyway."

"I thought I would try the next best thing and enjoy our little midnight rendezvous together."

"By palming my nether regions?"

Emma huffed. "Is this how you wanted to spend our Friday night? You said you wanted a date. Here we are."

"Yes, You said date. I wanted to court you, properly, with maybe dinner and a long walk to start-"

"What do you call this?! We just hiked half an hour to get here. And we had dinner."

"We had 'slim jims' I believe you called them and coffee in your vessel, and as much as I adore your company, love, I never want to repeat that particular experience again."

"Well news flash buddy, this is the 21st century and in this realm we date, not court, and you don't have to spend eternity trying to do it."

"But you're certainly worth it," Killian replied, a touch hurt that she would not think she would be warranted the effort, and the subtle rebuke aimed at his approach.

Emma sighed. "I know. I appreciate what you're trying to do, Hook, but it's been-" _a long time_, she wanted to finish, but cut off abruptly. In fact, she couldn't remember when she had sex last. Walsh? But that wasn't real. Before Henry found her in Boston, then? Damn, that was just pathetic. Hook raised an eyebrow, waiting. _Damn him_. It's not that she didn't appreciate what he was trying to do, the courting, the proper and gentlemanly behavior exhibited towards her, but honestly it had been weeks, months, years possibly, since she had felt a man touch her, want her, in that way. And it wasn't that Killian didn't want her that way, it was just he almost always stopped before it got that way, mindful that what he was driving towards was more than just a fling, or sexual release.

But she wanted the release. God she wanted the release. Just...Killian pressed all around her, in her, gasping, moaning, panting. Judging by the level of passion and intimacy she felt when he kissed her, she had no doubt a more furious coupling would leave her light headed and sated, and she wanted that. And put together the fact that her investigation into Elsa and her mysterious, snowy whereabouts was going nowhere fast, she was _frustrated_.

"But it's been a long week," she finished with a sigh, and muttered, "and I could use the pick me up."

"I see," was all he said, eyebrows low and brooding. "Well," he said after a moment, "shall I just have you up against that tree, you think," he pointed to a scaly barked fir tree, "or perhaps here, where the snow hasn't touched the earth. These ferns would make a nice soft mattress, I think, fit for the clearly animalistic rutting you so desire," and it was clear in his tone that he was insulted, and that's when Emma got pissed.

"Look-"

"No, love, you're right. Let's just...get down to it, I believe is how you say in this world?" Emma rolled her eyes.

"Hook-"

"You better get rid of that cloak, love, and, I dare say those close-fitting breeches. And be quick about it, lass, it looks like it might rain," he added dispassionately glancing up at the sky that was indeed filling with dark clouds. He reached with his good hand for his belt buckle, and made a motion with his hook indicating she should turn around, away from him.

"Chop, chop, Swan,"

"All right, you asshole!" She barked, herself insulted. He paused from unbuckling his pants, but not, she noted, his sword and scabbard, which he still wore slung low about his hips. Did pirates just work around it, she wondered? Awfully annoying, she thought, clinking and slapping against everything while you-and frankly wouldn't it just flat out be in the way?

She pointed at the sword, momentarily diverted from her ire. "You intend to fuck me with that still on?"

"A pirate is never without his weapon near."

And his tone indicated to Emma just what, exactly, about the situation that was bothering him.

"I know you're more than just a pirate," she said, and fought the urge to roll her eyes again, when Hook just raised both eyebrows politely. "And it's more than...than just-"she waved her hand back and forth between them. He shifted slightly, but merely waited for her to finish. "Than just a quick fuck between us," she ground out. "Please believe me," she almost whispered. "I think more of you than that," and those expressive eyebrows rose once more in what could only be categorized as polite disbelief, before lowering back down.

"I do," she defended. "I've just also had a really shitty week, and I really need you and this, and I thought, you know," _that you would be more than willing. That I would be up against the tree already halfway to my second orgasm, because I know you're good for it._ "You'd be amenable," she said instead.

The corners of his lips quirked slightly upwards. "Amenable, Swan?"

"Yes, amenable. I believe that's how you say it in your world?" She added sarcastically. And those expressive blue eyes danced.

"Emma," he started, contrite, but she turned away from him and unbuttoned her coat. A frigid breeze cut through as soon as she dropped it on ground behind her, and she heard a rustling that surely indicated Hook stepping closer.

"And, anyway, if you're so worried about being a gentleman around me, as you claim you are, well, isn't it ungentlemanly to leave a lady wanting?"

She slipped out of her pants and kicked them off to the side. The temperature had dropped by about twenty degrees and she was starting to freeze. A moment later though the cool leather of his coat engulfed her as she was spun around and yanked against Killian.

"Bloody, hell, woman, you shall be the death of me." Her mouth opened in anticipation and she was rewarded with Killian's hot tongue plundering her mouth for all she was worth. A moment later the sharp cool metal of hook slid down her waist, hooked the edge of her underwear and continued with it down her thigh.

_We're really going to do this_, she thought wildly, _he's really going to fuck me up against that tree_ and a flood of heat went south. Greedy hands felt and fumbled their way with his pants, finally releasing him, and Killian growled before spinning her around again, so that she stuck out her hands frantically so as not to collide with the tree. She barely had a moment to process when she felt his hand slide down between them, part her, and slip inside the slick, hot, velvety goodness he found there. A moment later he was in her, thick and full, and hot, and God, she was going to come just from this feeling. He moved slowly at first, still ever mindful and respectful of her, and with nothing for her to grab but Killian behind her, she flailed an arm out and fisted it in the back of his hair, urging him on. He bent he head down and feathered a kiss down the side of her neck, pausing a moment to choke out, "My gods, Swan," before picking up the rhythm and grinding into her.

"Yessss," she managed, reaching her other arm out and trying to grab hold of more of him. His hook pressed against her stomach, holding him to her, while his good hand slipped its way under her shirt and into her bra, brushing the fabric aside while he cupped and fondled a breast. Distantly she could hear his sword smacking against his leg, but he didn't break rhythm once and paid it no heed. She was sweating, so ready to find the release that was building that she ached, nearly numb with it, before the hook slipped lower and the rounded edge of the metal rubbed against her bundle of nerves and she exploded. A few more furious pumps and he followed, slowing before abruptly halting, slumping slightly against her, Emma braced against the tree, holding them up.

She could feel the sweat on the back of Killian's neck, where she still had one hand fisted in his hair, and she released it with a huff, legs quivering, from the exertion or the cold that was rapidly creeping into her freshly fucked bliss.

Killian pulled his good hand away and out from under her shirt, where it had still cupped her breast and stepped back a bit. Emma leaned against the tree for a moment, panting, listening to the wind and Killian, trying to grab her bearings.

"Wow," she breathed, and slowly turned around, the rough bark biting into her bare ass, and she reached down and pulled her underwear up around her hips again. Hook had already tucked himself back in, and was doing up his pants buckle, surprisingly adept with one hand and his hook.

He was surprisingly adept with one hand and a hook, and she gazed at said appendage with no little wonder. "Wow," she said again, and Hook, following her gaze, smirked.

"Now, I hope I have restored honor to my good name and have satisfied the lady?" he rumbled, slightly breathless, bending down to fetch her coat and pants and handing them to her. She grabbed the pants and hurriedly slipped them on, because damn it was cold, and she was dimly reminded of Elsa and the winter catastrophe she brought on Storybrooke that she was supposed to be researching/solving, instead of goading her...suitor? into a fuckfest in the forest.

Lover, she decided. After that performance, lover. Because they were definitely going to do that again. Soon. Maybe later tonight in fact, because he did owe her another orgasm. She shivered again and took the proffered coat, her mood dimming slightly. Right. Elsa. Who she should be finding and saving the town of Storybrooke from, _Not_ getting her jollies on with Captain Hook in the middle of the woods.

Killian watched her quietly, still breathing heavily, no doubt realizing something had subtly shifted in her mood in the last moment. She looked up into eyes, blue as the oceans he loved to sail, and quickly stepped forward and pressed her lips against his, soft and warm, and gentle. A hand slid up to the side of his face, before the other one joined to entwine around his neck and she allowed herself a few more moments of indulgence in Captain Killian Jones' arms, before stepping away regretfully.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said with a small smile, and she laughed quietly, remembering his question. She leaned in quickly to steal one more kiss from him, and he murmurred against her lips, "perhaps I should take more into consideration the customs of this world if I am truly to assimilate and adapt to Storybrooke with you."

She grinned. "See, that's what I've been saying," and came away with her bounty. She sighed. "It just never seems I have a moment with you all to myself. Henry, my parents, the next crisis I'm dealing with, Storybrooke. A girl has needs," she pointed out.

"Alas, I regret I did not tend to them sooner, but I had hoped when I did, it would've merited more romance than a hurried coupling in a dark forest."

"It was plenty romantic," she quipped. She pointed in the general direction to the sky, which was definitely getting ready to unleash some sort of weather soon.

"As you say," he replied drily, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Well, you can pick the spot for our next romance," she offered graciously, and bit down on a smile when she saw him perk up a bit at that.

"As the lady wishes," he replied with a slight bow of his head, wind ruffling his hair. He indicated she should precede him, and Emma, feeling a little raw, winded, but satisfied, reluctantly resumed the search for the wayward Elsa as snow began to fall.

It was quiet for a few minutes, both reflecting on what had just transpired between them.

"I should think for our next foray, we might invest our intentions in a place a little less chilly, and shielded from the wind, perhaps."

"Hmmm," Emma replied.

"With a proper bed."

"A bed would be nice," she agreed.

"A bit of assured privacy is good, too."

"Well, that would leave out a room at the inn. Granny, and more importantly Ruby, are right below."

"Hmm...Tink's across the hall, too, and any dalliance between us would undoubtedly not be private for long with those three."

"And we could forget about any sort of privacy to be found at your residence, I suppose, with your parents," he added after a moment.

"And Henry. And my new baby brother."

"Mm," He replied, mulling it over.

They walked in silence for a few more minutes, Emma allowing him to come to the same conclusiion she had reached.

"Bloody hell, Swan," he grumbled disappointedly.

"See, now you understand why it had to be here. And Now."

"Is there no place a man and a woman might enjoy each other's intimate company without the whole of Storybrooke's prying eyes upon them?"

"You Just experienced it." She waved a hand around them.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled. Emma smiled. "I would prefer a little less breeze on my backside next time."

"I would prefer a little less bark on my bare ass, but we both have crosses to bear, don't we?"

"Sorry, love. You're right, it's hardly ideal."

"I know. I still wouldn't change anything about it, though." She felt him pause a moment in surprise of the admission. "We needed it. I needed it," she added and heard him chuckle.

"I believe you demanded it, love."

"You sure gave into the demand easy enough."

"My honor as a gentleman was called into question. I had to defend it."

"You did. Thoroughly."

"I did, didn't I?" And there was no mistaking the pride and cockiness in his voice. Emma rolled her eyes, and was grateful he couldn't see the big smile on her face. "Unfortunately lass, until one of us moves, it's going to be a while before I have the opportunity to defend it again."

"Yup," Emma affirmed. She trudged along the path, deep in thought. "Say, Hook," she ventured with a smile. " You ever been in the backseat of a volkswagon?"


End file.
